Can I Trust You
by xpenemue
Summary: Cas distances himself from the bunker, only to have Sam ask him to come back.
1. Chapter 1

I realize now, it was all a mysterious act of Fate. Fate, of course, still hates me, so why she would do this for me is beyond even my understanding. It began when Dean told me that I couldn't stay. That was the day my life as a human got immensely better. Not only because I got a job, a life, a new identity.

But because Sam Winchester came after me.

That day, it was raining, and I was in Portland, by the sea, with a hood pulled over my head. I'd gotten used to human responses to weather, so I tried to get out of the rain, arms folded, and found shelter in a church. The rain was pounding on the roof as I made my way to sit in a pew. It was a large church with high ceilings and stained glass windows.

I made my shelter there for a time, before I heard the low sound of the Impala's engine parking, and the squeak of its door opening, before the low creak of the church door.

I didn't turn around, I refused to.

The sound of large wet shoes on wood echoed through the church, and stopped next to me.

I didn't look up before I spoke, but I should have.

"If you're here to tell me to come back, you can stop."

Because the next thing I knew, it was Sam's voice echoing through the church, not Dean's.

"We need you there, Cas. You'd be safer with us." Amazing grace, how sweet the sound.

That made me look up, stand even.

"Sam?"

My shocked question rang through the church. He didn't know that his brother had cast me away. He looked back at me with mock confusion.

"Yeah?"

I stood watching him, gaping for a moment.

"Did you steal the Impala just to convince me to come back?"

He nodded.

"I know we hardly got off on the right foot, and that I stabbed you in the back once, but I trust you, and your trust me." Then he stood, towering over me.

"Why do you want me back? I'm not useful to you anymore." That's when he smiled.

"You're family, Cas, that's why I want you with us. That's why I need to know you're safe."

Then, it felt like we'd hit a climax, and I rushed forward and finally hugged Sam Winchester. And he hugged me back.

But when I stepped back and spoke, I saw all the ignited hope leave his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I can't come back."

His brow knit. "Why not?"

"It would be safer if I wasn't there."

"If this is about the Angels... Cas, they can't find the bunker."

"I can't let them even find you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If the Angels find you, Sam, you or your brother, they will kill you. I know that for a fact, and I can't let them do that." I turned away from him, then, filled with remorse. "I'm sorry, Sam." I told him, before leaving the church and stepping into the rain.


	2. Chapter 2

Fate can be cruel, especially when she hates you for something you did a long time ago. Namely, when you were trying to replace God. Her cruelty is only intensified by the fact that your friend almost killed her. Awkward in his words. But more awkward now that I rely on her heavily, for help, to keep me alive, et cetra, et cetra.

One thing everyone needs to know about Sam Winchester is that he would never give up on me, not now, any way. Even though I told him to, repeatedly.

I was sitting against a brick wall, the rain having lessened dramatically over the last hour, when he found me again. I heard the deep roar of the Impala's engine and sighed, turning around to look at him, as he strode toward me. His eyes were pleading when he looked down at me. Mine apologetic as I looked back. He knelt down in front of me.

"Cas, I know you don't want to stay with us. I just want you to think about it. Look around you, aren't you miserable out here?" His brow was creased, and he gestured when he spoke. In truth, I was miserable, but I couldn't say it. Dean wanted me gone; I was gone.

"I'm fine, Sam." I lied, and he laughed and shook his head.

"You're a terrible liar, Cas." He said with an amused grin.

"I decieved and betrayed both you and your brother." I reminded him. Sam shook his head again.

"Y'know. I should hate you for that, and everything you did to me during that betrayal part." He said, looking into space. "But I don't, cause you're Castiel, and you're my friend." My heart sank when he said my full name, and I shook my head.

"Don't call me that." I said sadly. "I don't deserve to be called that..." I felt Sam's hand run through my hair, then.

"Why not?" He asked. "Because you don't feel you deserve it." He inched closer to me as he spoke, eyes dancing on the tips of me hair.

"I don't deserve it. I'm not an Angel anymore, Sam." I said. He was very close now, and we locked eyes for a moment.

"You'll always be an Angel." He muttered before leaning in and kissing me.

I was shocked, to say the least, but it felt right. It felt so right.

Sam Winchester, the boy king, the boy with the demon blood. No. This was Sam Winchester, the brother, the friend. The man who managed to make my heart implode with one kiss. _That saved a wretch like me._

It took only a moment for me to relax into it, and then his arms went around me, one pushing through my hair, one on my back, while mine went around his waist. I removed myself from my position on the wall and followed his lead as he stood, leaving me on the edge of my feet, but utterly captured in his arms. He pressed me into the wall before quickly pulling away. My eyes fluttered open to find him gasping for air, and I found I was quite light-headed as well. His eyes captured mine again.

"Was that alright?" He asked me breathlessly. I looked at him for a moment, noticing the concern in his eyes, before nodding.

"Of course it was." That earned me a grin, before he leaned in again. This time, I met him halfway, grabbing his jacket to pull him closer to me.

I wondered what could be going through his mind at that moment. Were they similar to my thoughts? Did he feel this was good? Maybe my answer was when he briefly broke the kiss and lifted me, before resuming it, and kissed me more passionately than anyone ever had before. I hummed as my lips parted, and his tongue began to slow dance with mine. He broke away again then, and set me down, before resting his forehead against mine.

"Come home, Cas." He whispered, eyes still closed as mine opened.

"I'm sorry." My voice cracked, and my eyes closed. He leaned into me, fitting himself around me.

"Cas, you don't need to be." He whispered into my ear. "Just let me get you off the street for the night." I pulled away, as much as I could, to look him in the eye.

"I couldn't do that..." I started to say, but trailed off when I saw the look in Sam's eyes.

"If you can't come back with me, let me do this for you."


	3. Chapter 3

_Awkward_ may just be the best word to describe how Sam and I were when I was an Angel. I remember saying: "I would hug you, but that would be awkward."

How would one describe us when he drives me to a motel and pays for my room completely so I wouldn't have to spend another night in an alley? How would one describe us when he kisses me one last time before heading for the door? How would one describe us when I grab his arm and pull him back to me? How would one describe us when his initial response was to pick me up and push me against the wall and finish the kiss we'd begun earlier?

I think the word _Forgiveness_ best fits us.

_Forgiveness_ because even after everything I've done and everything he'd done and everything we've done to each other, I still know one thing: There is a large chance that I'm in love with Sam Winchester.

Everything in that moment was absolutely perfect, his hands were in my hair, my hands were on his back...

But perfection never really lasts for me, does it?

Suddenly, I find that the kiss is broken, and I've fallen to the floor, and Sam has stepped away in confusion, glancing around the motel room, and finally, his gaze rested on me. He looked confused, yes, but not only that, frightened. Sam looked afraid of me.

"What is it?" I asked him, concerned, and standing. He took a few steps away from me. One thing I could see plainly in his eyes was _No_. As if he didn't like me, maybe love me, like that. Sam didn't speak, not once, just stood, staring at me.

"Sam, what's wrong?" I took a step forward and reached out for him, but he moved away even more. This worried me immensely. I was whet was wrong. But something still wasn't right. Something was still off.

"Should I... Should I go?" I feared the answer, but I had to ask. Something changed then, in the way Sam looked at me. It returned to the gentle, loving gaze I was used to. He relaxed, and looked at me.

"That was... Weird." He noted, running a hand through his hair. My eyes dart away from him and look aimlessly downward.

"It was..." I nodded.

"I... I should be going... A quick hunt only takes so long..." He doesn't say anything else, neither do I, but before he leaves, he does give me another kiss, and closes the door behind him.

Something really wasn't right, I didn't quite know what it was, and maybe Sam didn't either. Maybe whatever this was made it so I couldn't stay. Maybe this was the aftermath of the trials. He'd told me about them on the ride to the motel, namely what happened after I'd gone with Dean to retrieve the Cupid's Bow. How he'd dealt with Abaddon, how Crowley 'just wants to be loved.' I told him about what I'd done. About how Naomi tries to tell me the truth, about how Metatron bound me and tore out my Grace. Sam didn't remember much from after he decided to stop the trials. One thing he could remember was Dean, distant, telling him how the Angels were falling. And I told him where I was, in some forest, at that moment. He looked over at me then.

"Can I ask you something?" At which point, I nodded, and his gaze returned to the road. "You mentioned once, a couple years ago, actually, that you and Dean had a... er... more profound bond..."

"That was before I got to know you, Sam." I told him. "Before I was able to... feel human empathy..." _I once was lost but now am found._

"So you... Empathize with me?" He asked, and I saw his nose crinkle.

"More than that, Sam." I answered, reaching out to him with a soft smile, my hand then rested on his shoulder, toying with the ends of his hair. "You're my friend, and I'd die for you, I would." He grinned, hearing his words echoed back at him.

"So if you're Superman," He said then with a playful smile. "Does that make me Lois Lane?"

"...I still don't know who either of those people are, Sam." I told him with a creased brow. He laughed.

"You will, Cas. In time."

But I won't. The door was closed, and Sam was gone. I was left then to figure out humanity on my own, and I already knew that every single thing they needed to do, eat, sleep, just like clockwork. These things were tedious, and sleep was like a menacing cloud over my head, taunting me with nightmares.

It didn't help that I could still hear the Angelic frequencies in my head. That I could still hear the sorrow and rage.

So, for all purposes, I was alone again, forced to find my own way.

I took a deep breath and opened the door to the motel room, glancing left while stepping out. At that moment, a body struck mine, and I whipped around to see. It was a woman, and she had fallen to the floor.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, standing. I reached out to help her up, and she gladly accepted it.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

"I-I'm fine..." Luckily, I'd gotten to know humans enough to know, this was a lie.

"Do you want to talk?"

Had I known then that this woman I ran into in some motel in Oregon would determine so much of my fate, I don't think I would do anything differently. Had I known that she would give me that job, that precious _identity_, nothing still would've changed. I never thanked Nora, for turning up when she did, but I should have, before I-more accurately, Steve-went missing.


	4. Chapter 4

God, sometimes I really hate that blacking out bit. One moment, I'm right there, having the time of my life, Cas in my arms, and then, I'm on the other side of the room, and he's looking at me like I did something wrong. Next thing I know, I'm in the Impala driving back to Kansas.

Maybe I'd overstepped, maybe Cas didn't like me that way. But there's one thing I know. I'm never going to let him drag himself down about what he's done, never again. I want to be that person for him, who's there to help him through whatever the hell he's going through. I love that Angel, and I don't think anything will ever change my mind about that.

Dean was pretty calm when I got back to the bunker. A casual: "How was the hunt, Sammy?" Which got a casual: "Good." in reply. It wasn't what Dean wanted to hear, but it was what he got.

Then I blacked out again, which frustrated me, cause the next thing I knew, Dean was standing and part way across the room.

"What?" He asked me.

"How did you get over there?" I asked him. He sighed in frustration and shook his head.

"Nothing, it's nothing."

"No, Dean, it's not nothing. What were you asking me about?" I gripped the back of the chair and looked at him. He looked over at me.

"Did you go after Cas?" He didn't sound angry at me when he said it. He sounded like a tired, old man who'd seen too much of the world and wanted just one answer. It looked like the trials hurt him more than they hurt me.

"Why are you asking me this?" I asked, trying to divert his focus without inadvertently lying to his face. I didn't think I could do that again.

"Please, Sammy." He said. "Just answer the question." It was clear now. I'd only begun to see it. Dean Winchester was a tired, old soldier who's only wish was to see this eternal war come to an end, and that exhaustion interfered now. I dropped my head.

"I did." I don't know how I expected Dean to respond to that. Maybe a little anger? Maybe some sorrow? But no, I got neither.

"What did he say?"

"That he wasn't coming back." It was like he couldn't feel a damn thing.

"Anything else?"

"That he's useless to us, and he wants to keep us safe. That he's sorry." I could tell something was still bugging him. "What is it, Dean?" He shook his head, but intuition is an interesting thing, isn't it. "Dean." That was when he left the room, and I shook my head.

"What's up with him?" Kevin asked, walking in, a coffee in his hand.

"I have no idea." I said, looking over at him. "What's the progress?"

"I may have some really bad news..." He said, sitting across from where I stood. Raising a brow, I looked at him.

"What kind of bad news?"

"The spell may be... Irreversible. We may be stuck like this." He sighed.

"But there's a maybe... There's still a chance we could reverse it." And for a moment, I was actually optimistic about how this would all turn out.

"Yes, there's a maybe, but it's only that, leaning more towards: All the Angels will be stuck on Earth forever." Kevin put his head in his hands. "Right when you want to be out, they drag you back in, don't they." I sat then.

"Forever." _Was blind, but now I see._

"Until the day I cease to exist."


	5. Chapter 5

[A Couple Weeks Later]

The bell on the door rand, and that day, I could breathe a sigh of relief. Nora was working the register, the slushy machine was working perfectly, and all I had to do was stock the shelves. My ears perked at her voice welcoming the customer. My head swimming when I heard the reply.

"Yes, hello. Are you the owner of the store?"

And when I look over, there's Sam, in his suit, flashing his FBI badge. When I turn away again, I can feel my ears 'burning,' as Nora calls it.

"I am. What makes the FBI interested in my store?" At this point, I would think Nora would be leaned over in intrigue, but I didn't turn around again. All better judgement I had told me not to.

"Not your store, ma'am. An employee of yours." Now my face started to feel the warmth, since Nora and I were the only two people working here.

"Steve?" I'm sure this is one of those times, where you feel like you want to turn invisible.

"That would be the one." _Sam, what are you doing?_ I almost wanted to panic, but it was Sam. He'd never hurt me, not without/on purpose.

"What has he done?" _Make me a good one, Sam. Please not murder._

"He's done nothing." _Thank God._ "It's what he's witnessed. We think he may be in danger." _No._

"So you're going to put him in witness protection?" _Is this when you drag me back to the bunker 'kicking and screaming' as Nora would say?_

"We need to run a few evaluations. First would be to speak to Steve, see how he's feeling, customary procedure."

"Ah... I see... He should be right over there." _No no no._

"Thank you, ma'am. Your assistance has been greatly appreciated."

I put another box on the shelf.

"Hello, Steve. It's nice to see you again." Sam was now next to me. I mumbled when I spoke and hid my face.

"Hello." I kept my eyes fixed on the empty box I held.

"I need to ask you a few questions, if you know of a more quiet place..."

"Isn't here quiet enough?"

"I know you have a problem trusting people, especially after what you witnessed, but I can assure you. You can trust me, Steve." I sighed and looked over at Sam, he really knew how to keep up an act.

"Out back." I resigned, before stepping around him and putting the empty box in the back room, before motioning him to the rear entrance. Sam followed me, and when we were outside, and the door was closed, I turned to him.

"What did you want to ask me?"

"It's nice to see you like this, Cas. You look... Happy." He smiled at me, reached forward, and grabbed my hand.

"I'm surviving. If you can call living in the closet surviving." I replied, trying not to come off bitter, but my injured hand still ached and soured my mood. Sam stepped forward, placing his other hand on my hip.

"You know, there's always room for you if you ever want to come back." _T'was grace that taught my heart to fear._

"Sam, I told you. I can't."

"Please, Cas. We... We miss you. I miss you." Then he put his forehead against mine. "I need you there."

"Why?"

"I-I love you, Cas." His grip on my hand tightened. My breath caught in my throat. What words could I even possibly use? Nothing I knew in English or even Enochian could match that.

"I love you too." I said. He moved his hand from my waist to my neck and pulled me closer. "But I should get back to work." Sam let go of my good hand, nodding.

"See you again soon." He said with a smile.

"I plan to."


	6. Chapter 6

[Weeks later]

_And grace, my fears relieved._

"Agent." I said with a cheerful grin.

"Agent." Dean replied with absolute confusion.

"Agent." I repeated, directed this time at Sam.

"Agent." He answered, obviously holding back laughter.

Together, we reviewed the crime scene, which only made suspicions worse. Angel versus Angel.

I stood by one of the bodies, may have even been a good Angel. No. He was a good Angel. I could recognize him by the Blade resting by his side, I'd fought by him once. It was depressing, all the death, all the violence, and it was all my fault. I was jerked roughly forward by a pat on my shoulder, and looking back, saw Dean, grinning.

"How're things going, Cas?" He asked me casually. I looked back down to the body.

"How do you expect things are going, Dean?" I countered. "This is my family," Then gestured around us. "And they're killing each other. The worst part s, if I never trusted him, they could still be alive. It's all my fault."

"Shut up, Cas." He said, patting my shoulder again. "This whole thing? It's not your fault. I remember, Naomi, I wouldn't've trusted her either, in your shoes. Why should you 'ave? Even if she was telling the truth. She poked around inside your head. I think that's enough to make anyone not trust someone." _And she made me kill. First Samandriel. Then you, but not you._

I only shook my head.

"You don't understand, Dean. She did _try_ to tell me, but I didn't even listen to her. Not only did I not listen to her," I looked to him. "I didn't listen to you... You're my friend. You're my best friend. I should have trusted you."

"Cas!" He snapped then, grabbing my shoulders and looking me square in the eye. "Dammit, Cas. This isn't your fault! You gotta stop blamin' yourself for what Metatron did."

"I'm not blaming myself for what _he_ did. I'm blaming myself for what _I_ did." I said, shrugging away his hands, and stepping back. "I just need a little air." Then turned and went outside.

I never heard if Dean or Sam called after me, and I know how they work. I doubted that either of them would risk a "chick flick moment" just to talk to me. Which was what I needed. I needed space and air.

And Sam.

But let's leave it at air.

Later, I had rejoined them, and we went to a bar.

Alcohol, my old friend. You had a much quicker effect on me this time, I didn't even have to drink a liquor store to feel something.

But I got enough "feeling" to think praying was a good idea.

And history is history, and it cannot, nor should it ever, be rewritten.


	7. Chapter 7

If I ever told him what I did, would he forgive me?

I knew that something was wrong. The way Sam stepped back, the way he looked afraid of me. And now Dean tells me. There was an Angel, and I don't even know which one I had kissed. Maybe it was Sam who was afraid of me. Maybe it was the Angel.

Sam didn't tell his brother about us, and neither did the Angel it seemed, and when Dean turned away from us on the bridge, I could see how much it hurt both of them. When I saw the sun beginning to rise, I tugged on Sam's sleeve.

"We should go." I told him, but his hesitance spoke volumes about why he stayed. "I don't think he's going to come back, Sam." He sighed and looked back at me.

"Are you... Are you only staying because you have to heal me?" He asked sadly. I reached out, a hand on his shoulder.

"Of course not, Sam." I said. "I'm here for you." He glanced down to me, before wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"I'm sorry about... all the crap we put you though, Cas." He said, looking up into the horizon, where the sun was just now touching the water.

"I can handle your crap, Sam. I've handled it for five years." I smiled a little, and he pulled me closer.

"You didn't even need to stick around." He noted then, and I wrapped my arm around his waist.

"How would you have survived the Apocalypse without me?" I leaned into him, and he ruffled my hair.

"One of us wouldn't have. If you weren't there, I can only imagine how things would've went. I know that we would've been stuck with the fight. If it weren't for you, Cas, there would've been an Apocalypse." Sam mused. I nodded. His words were true. If I hadn't carved the Enochian sigils into their ribs, causing them to become invisible to Angels, Zachariah would have more easily persuaded Dean to say yes to Michael, and Sam, with nothing left to lose, would've said yes to Lucifer in a heartbeat.

"Good thing I was there then." I said, glancing over at him. He guided a hand under my jaw, lifting my chin, before placing a soft kiss to my lips. I broke the kiss and turned, grabbing both of his hands, then pulled him to me, and I kissed him.

His arms went around my waist, and mine went around his shoulders, pulling him toward me. He was my Sam, and he wouldn't suddenly pull away in confusion. More correctly, Gadreel wouldn't pull away in confusion. Sam would stay here. I knew that, even more so when he entangled his fingers into my hair, pulling gently. He led, I followed, backing into the guard-rails of the bridge. I led, he followed, deepening the kiss by parting our lips. He lifted me, and I rested on the railings. He pulled me close, and the kiss grew faster, rougher, more passionate.

And a surprising amount of lust.

I was an Angel, and Sam was a hunter. I wasn't supposed to be able to feel that kind of emotion. I'd only felt it once, when I was human, before I'd realized how much Sam meant to me, and how much I'd meant to him. And now... _How precious did that grace appear._ How beautiful Sam's soul felt beneath my hand as it rested on his chest, just above where his Anti-Possession tattoo used to be. _The hour I first believed._ And I twisted my fingers into his hair, pulled, just as he did mine. And he made a deep rumbling groan, animalistic to a degree, and his grip tightened on my coat. He pulled away from me, and sighed against my mouth.

"Cas." He mumbled, moving his hands beneath my coat, wrapping around me, closer, closer. "Cas." I looked into his eyes, wrapping his hair around my finger.

"Sam." I muttered, leaning my forehead against his. He pulled me down.

"Let's go home, Cas." He said, and I smiled. What I said then was a single word, full of hope, peace, solidarity. It was something I never knew I needed until now, and it was beautiful. More beautiful than anything I'd ever had before. More beautiful than my Eternal Tuesday Afternoon.

"Home." One I could share with someone I loved and who loved me.

Home. A home with the Winchesters. My family. Sam.


End file.
